


The Storyteller (Oikawa Tooru x reader)

by Itrytoohard24



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A lot of dry British humor, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Disorder, British English, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Established Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Eventual Romance, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone suffers so much lol, Friends to Lovers, Gen, I Made Myself Cry, I spell things Britishly lol, Iwaizumi Hajime is a Good Friend, Kunimi Akira is a good underclassman, Kunimi Akira is a memer, Oikawa Tooru Likes Aliens, Oikawa Tooru Wears Glasses, Oikawa Tooru deserves better, Oikawa Tooru is a Good Friend, Oikawa Tooru is a Mess, Pining Oikawa Tooru, Reader deserves better, Reader is An Emotional Mess, Reader is bisexual, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Some Humor, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Toxic Friendships, Toxic Relationships, Watari Shinji is a Good Friend, reader is insecure, there's a good ending i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:40:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28870983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itrytoohard24/pseuds/Itrytoohard24
Summary: Your friend demands that you be the script writer for the supposed love story between her and Oikawa Tooru.Or in which you're forced to shove two people together, painstakingly describing their romance arc, as you slowly fall for the volleyball player who's not meant for you.No pronouns are used for the reader so it can be for anyone :)
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru & Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 72





	1. the opening paragraph

You lived to write.

There was something about the thrilling sensation of spilling words across a blank sheet, painting a once blank piece of paper with sentences of unabashed emotion and description that made your heart pound in your chest. Writing was like breathing; no, it was more than that, to you it was a sacred art form that made you feel so much at once, in so little time.

Whether you had a pen in your hand, was seated at a computer, or maybe even a typewriter, you found such wonderful peace in spilling out your thoughts, using synonyms that others might not understand, but to you it was precious. You see, the beauty of writing was that not everybody could understand. Perhaps you could choose to reach a select audience, or it might be universal. That was what made it so magical! It was like you had no limits, you could forever push the boundaries of reality, the confines of society.

However, there was a problem. If, so to speak, you had to write a story you didn’t want to, that would be the worst feeling in the world. Like drowning in your own monstrous creation, only able to watch in horror as it did the exact opposite of what you wanted.

Unfortunately, over time, that was what you came to be doing. Yet it wasn’t like that when you started.

-

“(Y/n),” your friend, Yukira Rin, spoke, from next to you, from behind her curtain of gorgeous black hair. She’d stopped eating her onigiri, and her serious tone signalled to you that she had been thinking about a certain topic for quite some time now. “Could I ask a favour of you?”

You looked up from your food, and then placed down your chopsticks (albeit rather reluctantly, you were hungry as hell), giving her your full attention. “What’s up?” you questioned nonchalantly, leaning over your table so you could hear her more clearly.

“As you know, I, uh, have feelings for Oikawa-kun,” she mumbled, and you had to hold back an exasperated sigh.

Were you really having this conversation again? What had happened now, had he winked at her from across the hall or some bullshit, when it was probably her own wild, romanticised imagination? God, you were so exhausted of hearing about Oikawa this, Oikawa that. 

You weren’t about to deny that he was good looking, yes, you’d give him that; but was that all people really liked about him? Did he have any other admirable qualities? Who knew? Probably only people he considered his friends, and that did not include his fanclub for sure. As far as you were aware, he was closest with his volleyball team, who seemingly bullied him playfully on a regular basis.

“It’s not fair, (Y/n),” Rin whined, frowning to herself, as a light pink tainted her cheeks. “You’re in his class. You get to see him every day, even if you never talk to him because you’re pathetically shy,” there was a slight unsavoury mocking tone to her voice as she said this.

You swallowed, letting out a short breath, before plastering a smile onto your face with difficulty. “Well, it’s better than me flirting with him, right?”

“Don’t say that!” Rin giggled, slapping your arm, the hit stinging slightly, but you’d take it over her half intended pokes at your insecurities any day. “So, as I was saying,” she continued, “since you’re in your class, could you… talk to him for me? Get him to like me?”

“How am I supposed to do that?” you argued. “Didn’t you just say I was pathetically shy?”

“Yes, but,” Rin paused, trying to string her words together, “y-you’d do it for me, right?”

You were silent, watching her fiddle with a lock of her silky hair. God, Rin was lucky, she had been blessed with looks from a young age; she received a stunning amount of confessions each year, and yet had only dated twice, and since ‘falling in love’ with Oikawa Tooru, she’d focused all her attention on trying to get his attention.

You, on the other hand, were morally convinced that you’d been given the genetics of a turd, never having dated anybody in your 17 years on this god forsaken planet, and had never received a confession either. Your love life was about as alive as the dinosaurs.

“Please, (Y/n),” Rin pleaded, looking at you with helpless eyes (god, she was in deep), “you’re the only one I trust to do this out of all of my friends. And I’m your only friend! You’d do this for your friend, wouldn’t you?” she questioned, making it sound almost rhetorical.

Your eyes dropped to your lap, where you found your fists clenched, shaking against your thighs. “Ha,” you choked out a laugh, “I guess when you put it like that, I don’t have a choice.”

“Oh thank you!” your friend teared up, standing up and bowing to you in gratitude. “Thank you so much, (Y/n)!”

Yes, now she thanked you, after guilt tripping you. It felt so wrong, why were you bowing to this? You’d be better off without any friends anyway, it would be much less bothersome…  
Yet you found yourself ducking your head, your smile so wide it hurt, disguising your conflicting, screaming mess of emotions in your head.

“It’s no problem at all,” you whispered through gritted teeth.

-

Your story began calm, composed, as you began to write it on a sheet of paper, the title gleaming like gold: ‘The Love Story of Yukira Rin and Oikawa Tooru’.

So simple, so pure. It was a plain story, with no backbone, no motivation. _Boring _.__

____

That would soon change; for over time, the sentences would creep up on you, the paragraphs you’d written absentmindedly would tower over you, pushing you into a corner, as the emotions in your descriptions would steadily become more about you and him, and less about them.

____

You would be dragged, kicking and screaming, into a mess of feelings you never asked for, and your fake writing would break in front of you, revealing so much more than you would’ve ever thought, your broken words haunting you with a vengeance.

____


	2. forced interaction

Oikawa Tooru held a rather strange power in your class. It was like having a deity among mortals, as far as his fans were concerned, and believe me, this young man had plenty of admirers. From girls, to boys, to non binary people, Oikawa’s gorgeous face was enough to attract pretty much anybody. It helped that he fit the standard of beauty in our current society, so a lot of people counted themselves blessed to be within two metres of him.

You also had heard that he had a fanclub, and from what you’d gathered about it, it sounded more like a cult than anything else.

So, in conclusion, Oikawa had a presence factor that was really quite astounding. Your eyes drifted over to where he was sitting, at around the middle of the room, laughing at his other friend Iwaizumi, who looked a bit more than pissed. Glancing away, you went to the back, where your usual seat was, ducking your head as you passed the other students.

After the teacher came in, you immediately blocked out the sound of their voice, simply thinking to yourself. Rin wanted you to get to Oikawa, but how would you even do that? You certainly didn’t want to talk to him, even the idea of that scared the shit out of you. But then what? How were you supposed to get them together?

You flicked your pen between your fingers, deep in thought, and then all of a sudden the pen was flying out of your grasp, before it sped across the floor, and ended up right underneath Oikawa’s chair.

Fucking _dumb luck _.__

__With baited breath, you watched as he turned around in confusion at the noise, before looking down and finding it, picking it up and inspecting it quizzically. You had to admit, the face he was making was adorable, but you were more nervous about the fact that the teacher hadn’t noticed yet, meaning Oikawa had no excuse for throwing a pen across the classroom to give it back to you. He looked around, clearly puzzled, as you attempted to signal to him without being too obvious._ _

__In frustration, you slammed your textbook shut loudly, gaining the entire class’ attention, including the teacher’s, who frowned at you. “Would you like to tell us why you’re so irritated, (L/n)?” they questioned._ _

__Embarrassed, you shook your head. “No, sir. I’m very sorry,” you muttered through gritted teeth. When the teacher was no longer looking at you, you shot a desperate look at Oikawa, who’d turned around along with most of the students at the noise, and made imitations of writing with your shaking hand._ _

__Oikawa blinked, then his lips curled up in a slight smile, and he gave you a thumbs up, which meant he’d probably give it to you after class had finished. You were drowning in your own sweat for the remainder of the lesson, dreading the encounter._ _

__-_ _

__Death was beginning to sound real sexy right now._ _

__Oikawa Tooru stood in front of your desk, a wide smile on his face, your pen in his hand. With a sigh, you stood up to take it from him; and to your shock, he whipped it away at the last moment, holding it above his head, taunting you with his height._ _

__“Come on,” he teased lightly, with a playful wink, “I’m sure you can do much better than that, (L/n).”_ _

__You didn’t like the tone he’d used whilst saying your last name. “You giraffe looking, ugly ass, beanstalk look alike!” you spluttered angrily, already riled up from the last hour._ _

__When Oikawa burst out laughing, you stepped back, defensive, assuming that he was still making fun of you. It was strange; he looked almost ethereal, as you watched his gorgeous smile. You could suddenly see why people thought him attractive, considering his beautiful eyes, and chocolate brown locks. For some reason you had a gut feeling that he styled it every morning._ _

__“You know,” he giggled, finally handing you your belonging, snapping you out of your daze, “I never expected someone so quiet to be so funny.”_ _

__You scowled, taking your pen a tad aggressively, and mumbling out a half-assed ‘thank you’. Now what? You’d caught his attention… how did you make friends again? Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god._ _

__He was leaving, you couldn’t just stand there, you had to talk a little bit more! But how? How the hell were you supposed to casually make conversation? Say something, anything at all!_ _

__“I--” you spluttered, raising your hand; but he’d already disappeared, leaving only you, and your swarming thoughts. You allowed yourself to go limp, standing deathly still in the middle of the silent classroom. “I think you’re a good volleyball player,” you whispered to nobody._ _

__You had never even seen him play._ _

__With a disappointed sigh, you turned around, and started to pack up your stuff, not wanting to be late to go home, since you needed to cook dinner for your father. All the while, your thoughts could only dwell on how upset Rin would be that you hadn’t made any progress._ _

__“(L/n)-san,” a soft voice came from the doorway, and you looked up in confusion, to see one of your peers standing in the doorway. To say you were shocked was an understatement; you had been 100% sure that no one in your class knew you existed. “Uh… are you alright?” the young man spluttered, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly._ _

__Who was this dude again?_ _

__Ah, right, now you remembered: Karasuma Sosuke, a pretty chill guy, as far as you were aware. Why was he here though?_ _

__You tilted your head, and nodded. “J-Just packing up,” you mumbled, returning your gaze to your desk, too scared to glance at him again._ _

__“I see,” for some reason, you could hear the smile in Karasuma’s voice. “Well… see you tomorrow!”_ _

__When you whipped up in surprise at his words, he was already gone, and you could hear his hasty footsteps echo hurrying away down the hall. “That’s suspicious,” you murmured to yourself, narrowing your eyes. “That’s weird.”_ _


	3. sick hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention the reader is bi/pan? If not now you know ig-

Surprisingly enough, when you informed Rin that you hadn’t had much progress, she wasn’t irritated in the slightest. In fact, she gave you a pat on the shoulder, and reassured you that she knew how much effort it took for you to talk to people. “You’re shy, (Y/n),” she spoke, in a factual manner, “it can’t be helped. But I really appreciate that you’re trying. I know it’s hard for you.”

This time, your smile was genuine, as you thanked her. 

“So, I found that there might be a way to do this quicker,” Rin continued, an excited blush crossing her cheeks, “There’s a party going on at the weekend, and I heard that Oikawa was going. We could show up and try to get to know him a bit better!”

Your smile dropped.

“Oh come on! What’s that face for? I know you hate parties, but just this once you wouldn’t mind, right?”

No, you wouldn’t mind at all. How could you ever say no to her?

That was how you found yourself in front of a large house, Rin by your side, with blasting music coming from inside, and joyful shouts rigning out into the night. The noises triggered your anxiety, and out of habit, you began to pick at your fingers, tearing at the dead flesh for some sort of relief; there was no way you could do this. It looked so… loud. Who genuinely went to these things to have fun?

“Aww, we’re late,” Rin sighed, smacking her freshly painted red lips together. “I told you it would’ve been faster if I’d asked my driver to take us.”

“Oh well,” you mumbled, blinking steadily, intaking a sharp breath every time the lights above changed colour, startling you.

“Couldn’t you have dressed a bit better?” your friend complained, gesturing to your somewhat tacky, thrown together outfit. “Nobody’s going to want to hook up with you when you look like that.”

“Has anyone ever wanted to hook up with me?” you replied snarkily, disguising your inner hurt.

Rin giggled, nudging you. “Oh stop that. Let’s get going then, we’ve got an Oikawa to seduce,” she stated, walking towards the house, though she tripped over her obnoxiously high heels as she did. “Whoops!” she laughed, looking over her shoulder at you.

Your breath caught in your throat; it was at times like these that you were reminded why you used to have a crush on Rin.

Yet you shook your head, before you placed a grin on your lips. “I told you not to wear those fucking shoes,” you reprimanded cheekily.

“Shut up!” she squealed, letting out a playful shriek as you mockingly pushed her, causing her to almost topple to the ground.

For a moment you thought this might not be so bad. 

You were reminded of the reality you hated so very much, when you stepped through the door, and took in the sight of thousands of drunk, horny teenagers, who clearly had no idea what their boundaries were anymore.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like these people per say, after all they were free to do whatever they wanted, however the overwhelming intensity of these types of events scared the shit out of you. You were a quiet person, who preferred to be by themselves, as depressing as it sounded; large crowds had never been your forte.

So for fuck's sake, why were you here?

"Come on, let's go find him!" Rin gushed, clearly feeling the adrenaline from the high energy atmosphere. 

"In this huge house?" you spluttered, eyes darting from place to place, searching for an emergency exit to use.

"Hmm, you're right!" your friend hummed. "Let's split up! This house has two floors, so you take the top and I'll do the bottom! It'll be easier for you since there are usually less people there," she winked at you.

"Thank--" your words died at the edge of your lips; she was already gone. All of a sudden, you felt terribly alone, in the midst of all this alcohol ridden air. You didn't want to be here, you really didn't, all you wanted was to go home.

Yet you found yourself ducking past various other peers in order to find the nearest staircase in the house. The stench of liquor was everywhere, mixed with the faint stink of weed, and it was doing a number on your head. How long has it been, a minute, five minutes? An hour? Who knew? 

Doubling over slightly, you finally spied the steps to the upper floor, and hobbled over to them, barely avoiding a half naked couple; almost there, almost there!

As you walked unsteadily up the stairs, you felt an unpleasant feeling strike your stomach, causing you to clap a hand over your mouth.

Bathroom.

With renewed panic, you stumbled to the top, and glanced around, before recognizing the familiar door that was thankfully in every household. But when you tried the door handle, it was locked. Tears built up in your eyes, as anxiety took over your system; you couldn't fucking take this anymore.

"H-Hello?" you stuttered weakly, still desperately fiddling with the lock, hoping this was just a nightmare, "I'm really sorry to bother you, b-but I'm about to throw up. Could you hurry up please?"

No answer. 

Oh god, this was your worst nightmare. You promised yourself you'd never be the one to get into these types of situations; you promised yourself that you'd dedicate yourself to the parent friend archetype, the one who picks up their drunk besties, or something along the lines of that. You weren't even drunk. 

You were just that weak willed in these types of situations, and it made you feel like absolute shit.

"Please! I'm really sorry, but--" you yelped in surprise, as the door opened, causing you to tumble forwards.

Instantly, you spied the toilet, and scrambled over, just in time to lean over the edge and hurl up the contents of your dinner.

Shit. Your dad spent ages preparing that. What a waste.

You pulled away, the taste of sick disgustingly prominent in your mouth, looking up to see who'd let you in, to thank them; and then your bloodshot eyes widened when they met with brown, exhausted ones.

"Oh," Oikawa Tooru murmured, closing the door behind him, so you were both alone together. "It's you."


	4. lonely together

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. Yes, you didn’t know much about Oikawa, but from what you gathered on surface level, he wasn’t the type to hide in a bathroom during a party. In fact, you’d assumed that he would be one of the drunkards downstairs, living it up like any other extrovert; yet here he was, in the toilet, looking incredibly tired. For a moment, all you could do was stare from where you knelt, taking in his presence.

Oikawa studied your expression, before letting slip a scoff. “What’s that face for, huh?”

You took offence, and scowled lightly at him, wiping away the sick at the corners of your mouth. “I-I just didn’t expect to see you in here,” you muttered defensively, standing up, and making your way over to the sink.

“At the party or in the bathroom?” he questioned, leaning against the door, placing his hands in his pockets, watching you as you began to wash out your mouth.

“B-Bathroom,” you confirmed quietly, glancing at him for a second to get a look at his appearance; he was wearing something quite simple actually; just a pair of jeans and a white collared shirt, with a couple of the buttons undone. Yeah, it wasn’t anything special, but he looked good. 

Really good.

You looked away again, inwardly reprimanding yourself. This was not the time to thirst, especially since you didn’t know this guy.

“So, why did you throw up then?” Oikawa asked casually, shifting from his spot, and walking over to you slowly.

“I’m not built for parties,” you laughed dryly, wiping your mouth with the nearest towel. “I-I only came because of my friend.”

“I see,” he murmured, stopping beside you, before he took the washcloth from your grasp, and silently wiped away a bit of sick you’d missed whilst cleaning yourself up.

Briefly, you froze, not used to such intimate gestures, then averted your gaze to the bathtub. “Thank you,” you mumbled.

“No problem,” Oikawa answered smoothly (you were astonished at how easy he found it to talk to someone he didn’t know). “It would ruin your cute face,” he teased.

Your eyes widened at his comment, before you shook your head, and muttered, “Please don’t say those kinds of things, Oikawa-san.”

“Oh, that’s the first time you’ve said my name!” he exclaimed, leaning over into your view to let you see his smirk. “You could always call me Tooru-kun you know,” he uttered, giving you a suggestive look from beneath his eyelashes.

“Stop that please,” you groaned, placing a hand to your forehead. 

“Stop what?”

“Saying those things! It’s kinda… weird.”

“Weird how? You’re very good looking, I don’t understand how you’re not used to people hitting on you.”

“H-Hey! You can’t just say stuff like that!” 

In response to your heated outburst, Oikawa just laughed, though it wasn’t his usual fake little giggles; it was a full out, genuine, gut busting laugh. Your annoyance faded slightly, as you observed him carefully, feeling as if you were observing something taboo. This couldn’t possibly get any weirder… here you were, stuck in a bathroom with the guy who you were supposed to be setting up with your friend, except he was flirting with you.

What made it even stranger was that you’d never actually been subjected to flirting before, and bloody hell, it was sort of nerve wracking.

Then again, almost everything was nerve wracking to you.

“Wow, you really are funny, huh?” he murmured, trying to hide his smile beneath his hand. 

You wrinkled your nose. “I think that I have a somewhat decent sense of humour.”

“I see,” Oikawa replied, then strolled away, to the opposite wall, and sunk to the floor, leaning against it. He patted the empty space next to him, “Sit down.”

Again, you found yourself scowling, but now it was more out of habit than anything else. However, you complied, walking over to him warily, and sliding down next to him, making sure to leave some space between you two. You curled in on yourself, quiet as ever, not willing to make any conversation.

Wait! You could use this opportunity to get to talk to him about Rin! If you could find the correct words and mannerisms that is… 

You prepared to speak, though you weren’t sure what to say, but Oikawa extended his hand, and used his index finger to gently close your mouth. “You don’t have to talk,” he murmured softly, a tender smile on his face as he stared dreamily into space. “I’m sure you don’t like talking.”

You could’ve attempted to say something, ramble about how pretty Rin was, or how you thought he’d like her.

Instead you selfishly kept quiet, enjoying the rare silence.

Well, it wasn’t silence really; the bass from the music downstairs was still incredibly loud, and you could feel the vibrations through the floor. Your eyes flickered over to the door, as you wondered if you should leave, but when you glanced back over to Oikawa, you found him half asleep, eyes closed, head leaned back resting against the wall, so you decided to stay here until he at least looked a bit better.

The only word you could use to properly describe him was tired. It also looked vaguely as if he’d been crying, but that might’ve been the weed you saw downstairs earlier. In conclusion, although you had no idea who Oikawa Tooru was really, you didn’t feel it would be right to leave him like this.

Little did you know that he felt the same way after seeing you throw up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know not much happened this round but we'll get into the good stuff next time-


	5. chaos

It had been about half an hour, and you were still sitting quietly with Oikawa Tooru, in a bathroom, at a party. At this point, he was fully asleep, and you were admittedly beginning to get very tired as well, slumping against the toilet bowl next to you like you were a drunk person. With a sigh, you pulled your phone out of your pocket, only to be met with a barrage of messages from Rin, asking where you were. 

Maybe having your phone on silent all the time wasn’t a great idea.

Rin:  
(Y/nnnnnnnn)  
Where are youuuuuuu  
I can’t find Oikawa-kun :(  
I don’t think he came  
I’ve checked everywhere  
Are you ok?  
(Y/n)  
People keep asking if I want to have sex w them  
Im uncomfortable  
Im gonna go home  
I’ll see you at school tomorrow

(Y/n):  
Sorry  
I threw up in the bathroom and i’ve been in here for the past half an hour

Rin:  
Did you find Oikawa-kun?

You swallowed thickly, glancing over to where Oikawa was, breathing lightly, a rare peaceful expression on his face. If you told Rin he was here, there was no doubt she’d come running back… she didn’t need to know.

Right?

You:  
No  
I didn’t see him anywhere

Rin:  
Awh  
Promise me you’ll talk to him tomorrow at school!

You:  
Yeah ok

It would be easier to do it anyway, since you’d talked to him a little beforehand. At least you wouldn’t be starting from scratch, which was more terrifying than you’d ever be able to conceive. Perhaps there had been some benefit from coming here.

You gaze once again wandered over to Oikawa, where you were met with the sight of his chest rising and falling slowly, and his eyebrows not drawn into any particular expression for once; you liked this quieter version of him much better. Inwardly, you found yourself thinking if he’d turned up to drown his sorrows, and quickly texted Rin to ask her what you hoped was an inconspicuous question.

You:  
Hey you think he didn’t turn up because something happened?

Rin:  
Oh that’s a good point!  
I heard he lost the chance to go to nationals in the spring interhigh tournament  
I think his team lost to Shiratorizawa two days ago

You:  
Right  
Yeah that sounds valid

You closed your phone thereafter, and silently brought your knees to your chest, staring over the top of them at the sink opposite you. It had been about an hour since you’d arrived now, so it was around 10 at this point, and you were busy regretting coming here, since you could’ve been wrapped up in blankets watching anime right now.

But no. Instead you had to be a doormat who couldn’t say no to an overbearing friend.

God, you were 17 and still a pushover. Something was definitely wrong here. Perhaps going to a therapist like your dad suggested might’ve not been such a bad idea.

“Hey,” a groggy voice came from next to you, startling you, and causing you to stiffen defensively. Nervously, you glanced over to Oikawa, who had his head leaned back against the wall, eyes now open, and they were looking right at you. “I never got your first name.” He commented.

Another scowl crossed your face, and you averted your gaze (you’d never been good with holding eye contact). “You’re not getting it, Oikawa-san,” you replied shortly, trying not to stutter as you spoke. “Please continue using my family name.”

“Why’re you so hostile?” he laughed slightly, shuffling closer to you.

You instinctively pulled yourself away, but was blocked by the toilet, causing your back to press into the cold porcelain; Oikawa used this to place a hand on either side of you, effectively caging you, as he continued to look at you with a lazy smile. You were panicking, god you were panicking! He was close enough for you to smell the weird cologne he’d put on before he went out, close enough to barely feel his breath, close enough to hear the curious humming from his chest, as he observed you.

“You’re a funny one, aren’t you?” he mused, “Either people seem to hate me, or love me. But you’re just very… awkward.” He chuckled slightly, when you shrunk in on yourself (you knew he was damn right). 

“It’s hard to talk to people,” you murmured. “Also, please get off me.”

“Hmm?~ Why should I? I’m very much enjoying myself right now,” his voice sounded almost like a purr as he said this, which caused a rather weird feeling to settle in your stomach.

“I-I don’t see why,” you spluttered, squeezing your eyes shut, hearing your heart pounding in your ears.

“It’s not very often I get locked in a bathroom with a cutie such as yourself,” Oikawa replied smoothly.

Oh for fuck’s sake, he was flirting with you. Why? Honestly, you didn’t know. The strange sensation in your gut built up until it was unbearable, and you instantly grabbed his forearm, and with a strength you didn’t know you had, you flipped him onto his back, pinning him by his wrists.

“I really don’t know what you find so attractive about me, but I think you shouldn’t corner random people in a bathroom and hit on them,” you spluttered, ignoring the immense heat that was coursing throughout your body; honestly, you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or attraction.

For a moment, a look of surprise remained on Oikawa’s face, before to your shock, his lips curled into a bashful smile, and a barely visible blush flushed across his cheeks. “Wow.~ That was incredibly hot of you, darling.” He murmured; you froze, when you recognised some lustful undertones to his words.

_Darling? ___

__What the fuck?!_ _

__No, no, no, no, no, this was not happening. Here you were, basically seducing the guy your friend was into, like you were the Regina George of the story. You weren’t the antagonist! Heck, you weren’t even a side character! You’d been commissioned to write this plot for Rin’s satisfaction, meaning you shouldn’t even be making an appearance, yet here you were, being an absolute fucking idiot, and shoving yourself into the narrative._ _

__Oh no, you had to turn this around and fast._ _

__You scrambled off Oikawa, and stood up, brushing off your shirt, whilst pretending to be extremely offended. “Oikawa-san, you really do remind me of a happy little boy who drank too much coffee and possibly took some of the medication in his parents’ cabinet.” You stated dully._ _

__“Huh?!” Oikawa exclaimed, sitting up, “We were having a moment!”_ _

__“I think I want to go home,” you announced, clearly ignoring him, but you let out a yelp, when you heard a crash outside the door._ _

__“You know what,” Oikawa murmured, standing up as well, “that’s not a bad idea. I’m beginning to feel a bit tired myself.”_ _

__You choked on your own spit, “You were fast asleep a few minutes ago!”_ _

__“Huh? You noticed?!” he spluttered, as he reached for the lock at the door._ _

“It would be a little weird of me to not have!” you hissed back, tempted to give him a middle finger. 

“Alright, on three we’ll make a break for it,” Oikawa instructed, and you nodded, now just wanting to get home.

“Remind me never to go to a party again,” you whispered.

__“I don’t know, I had quite a good time,” Oikawa remarked slyly; you shot him a deadpan stare, before focusing your attention on the door. “Ok,” he muttered, “three, two… one!”_ _

__He opened the door, and the both of you rushed out._ _


	6. beyond the blue

“What?!” Rin whined, the very next day, back at school, in front of the gates. “You don’t mean that! You can’t just never go to a party again!”

“I meant what I said,” you laughed shakily, pressing a hand to your forehead. “And besides, sometimes it’s a pain to leave,” you murmured, recalling how you and Oikawa had to push through a ton of people before finally reaching the door. There, the both of you had given each other a tired goodbye, before going your separate ways, seeing as your houses were in different directions (you couldn’t have been more glad about that fact). 

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Rin tried to reason with herself, giving you a half serious glare from beneath her eyelashes. 

“No, it was,” you reinstated, with a slight shrug. 

“You’re so overdramatic,” she scoffed; the emotion in her eyes was a mix between forced sympathy and mockingness; you could physically hear her thoughts crawling through her head, an assortment of how pathetic you were, to how you’d never be able to do what you asked. “I don’t know why I bother with you sometimes, (Y/n).”

She spat out your name as if it were a bitter poison, causing you to outwardly flinch, and divert your gaze to the floor, watching some of her spittle land near your feet. Had that been on purpose?

“I hope you’ll understand at some point how important it is that I get to know Oikawa-kun,” Rin hissed angrily, her words dripping with malice, “because you can’t stay a hermit forever, and this is just one example of how you acting like a child really fucks everything up.”

She didn’t understand. She’d never made an effort to try and comprehend how hard being an insecure introvert was.

Why were people twisted? Why did you let people walk over you, this bitch nonetheless?

Because she was the only thing you had left.

After that, you and Rin shared some pointless conversation until you parted ways to go to your respective classes. There was a nervous jolt to your step, as you walked, considering you might actually have to greet Oikawa when you entered the room. That thought in itself was terrifying… 

“(L/n),” the sound of your name coming from somebody else’s mouth apart from Rin’s sent a large amount of warning bells going off in your head, but it was a voice you’d heard before; turning around slightly, you met the gaze of Karasuma, who was giving you a concerned look. “I heard that you went to the party yesterday. Is that right?”

All you could bring yourself to do was nod in affirmation, accompanied with a barely audible hum. 

“Oh, I see,” Karasuma laughed, somewhat awkwardly, “I… was just a bit surprised. You don’t seem like a party person.”

“I-I’m not,” you were shocked at how easily the words were slipping from your lips, “my friend dragged me into one. Well, more like guilt tripped me, if we’re going to be honest.”

Why were you talking to him? Perhaps it was because Karasuma had always been an easy person to talk to, yet from what you’d seen, this never brought him much popularity; in fact, if you recalled correctly, he was picked on at a young age for being ‘soft hearted’.

Toxic masculinity was still very prevalent in men who didn’t want to admit how attention starved they were, it seemed.

Karasuma giggled, in a manner that reminded you of Oikawa. Ah, that was it, Karasuma seemed to be Oikawa in another universe, with a few things tweaked; for example, his hair was a light ginger, accompanied by green eyes, and a dash of freckles across his cheeks and nose, not to mention Karasuma seemed much more reserved, and certainly didn’t garner as much fans as his alter ego did.

Goodness, drawing attention to it now, they did seem like a set of warped twins.

With a shake of your head, you hid a smile, and then murmured, “I suppose we should get going.”

“Yes,” Karasuma agreed, “and… I know it must’ve taken a lot of effort to go to one of those parties. They’re intense… so, would you like to have lunch with me today?”

For a moment you were silent; it just so happened that Rin was occupied this day, at a club during lunch (one that you didn’t know the name of please note). 

“Y-You have to if you don’t want to!” Karasuma spluttered, blushing in embarrassment, waving his hands.

At his panic, you broke out into a mess of nerves as well, babbling like an idiot. “N-No! It’s fine! I-I wouldn’t mind having lunch with you at all, Karasuma-san! Saying no would be… ridiculously ridiculous!”

There was a pause, before both of you began to laugh at the expression you’d used. One thing you registered with alarm was that you certainly didn’t feel this way around Rin.

-

True to his word, the young man walked over to your desk at lunch, looking more anxious than anything, so you immediately felt for the poor guy, even though you felt perhaps even more nervous than he did. Karasuma walked right over to your desk, and sat down heavily, at the table that was usually occupied by a dude who tended to pick his nose a lot.

(Also, last year you had to sit behind a girl who’d smear gum on the back of her chair; and the year before that, you sat in front of a boy who tried regularly tried to mastubrate in the middle of fucking class. Seriously, why did you have the worst seatmates?)

“Hi,” Karasuma chuckled, making himself comfortable. 

“S-Salutations,” you stuttered in reply, ignoring the way you suddenly spied Oikawa glancing over to you (you’d come in earlier than him, and had therefore been spared the burden of talking to him thus far).

"So, uh… what university are you thinking of going to?" Karasuma asked, leaning his head in his hand.

You were silent for a moment, glancing away, contemplating whether to lie, or give your actual answer. Shifting nervously, you decided to give a vaguely truthful reply. "I'm… not going to university in Japan. That's for sure."

"Oh really?" Karasuma was clearly surprised, as most people would be. "That's a big thing. Where are you thinking of going?"

Again, you paused, gathering your thoughts, before saying bluntly, "My mum lives in Scotland, so I'll probably go there."

"Scotland!" Karasuma exclaimed, utterly shocked. "Woah! That's a big move! I just wanted to go to Osaka, and be with my grandfather… you're thinking big."

"I guess so," you mumbled, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. To be honest, you hadn't even told Rin about leaving the country; you were far too fearful of her reaction. 

"That's going to be difficult," Karasuma pointed out, "they speak English there, and in pretty strong accents, plus it's supposed to be really cold there…" 

"It'll be hard, I know… but I--" you cut yourself off, and smiled lightly, to stop any unnecessary information from being revealed. "I want to get out of here," you settled on confessing, rather than your other reasons as to why you wanted to leave.

"I can't really blame you," Karasuma laughed, "I would leave too, but my family wants me to stay. When I was in first year though, I really wanted to go to Denmark, since I want to be a designer."

"That would be great," you remarked, the grin on your face now genuine. "They're supposed to have really good hot chocolate there."

"And I could get as much Lego as I want!" Karasuma added.

This time, when you both shared a laugh, it felt more natural than anything you'd ever done with Rin; scarily so.

-

Reasons to go to Scotland:  
-See new places  
-Get a degree in English so I can write books  
-Get away from Rin  
-So I can be with mum for her last two years


	7. meaningful

After your strangely enjoyable lunch with Karasuma, the day sped past, leading into Friday afternoon, in which you were ready to head home, to spend the weekend with your father. However, while you were walking towards the gate, Rin's voice caused you to stop, and turn back. 

"(Y/n)!" she called out, from behind the main building; she was sporting a soil covered apron, and a surprisingly large smile, along with a slight tint of joyous pink to her cheeks. "Could you come over here for a moment?"

With a sigh, you obliged, straying off course, and strolling over to her. "What's wrong? Don't you have gardening club?" you asked, gesturing to her dirty clothes.

"Yes, yes, but I need your help for something!" she replied hurriedly, beckoning you over to where a lot of flowers were. "You know a lot about flowers, right? Kinda weird, since I'm in gardening club instead!" she giggled to herself at the thought, and even you let slip a smirk at the irony.

"So?" you prompted, folding your arms (you were desperate to get home, in case you couldn't tell).

"Well, when the time comes, I want to give flowers to Oikawa-kun," Rin spoke firmly, "so could you pick out a flower that means something nice?"

Your eyes flickered over the assortment of plants, before you spied a bunch of slightly wilted red carnations. "Those," you pointed bluntly at them.

"Did you only pick those because they're red? For a communism joke?" Rin asked, though she went over to them, and inspected them closely.

"No," you replied dully, "they mean, 'my heart aches for you'."

"Oh! That's so poetic and romantic!" your friend gasped, clasping her hands together in glee. "I can't wait to be able to talk to him. You better hurry up with talking to him (Y/n), because my feelings for him are so overwhelming."

You wanted to correct her so badly. No, she wasn't in love with him. No, this wasn't a fucking shoujo manga where everyone gets what they want in the end. No, you couldn't just talk to him like that.

It wasn't that easy; nothing ever was. Since when had she gotten delusions of grandeur? 

Perhaps they'd always been there, along with her barely noticeable superiority complex.

Again, you let out a sigh, as you peered over at another set of flowers, that were further down, and were worse for wear, dried up at the edges.

"I'll try my best," you murmured, your gaze fixed on the half dead lot of fox gloves, symbolizing insecurity. 

-

Saturday and Sunday disappeared unfairly fast, leaving you to come to school on Monday, and let the day drag out, filled with the white noise of lessons and Rin's half minded rants on how beautiful Oikawa was. At the end of the day, you began to walk home, however you were quickly sidetracked by a small shop at the corner of a street.

As you stood silently, skimming over the Japanese in the newest edition of Shounen Jump weekly (you had never been good with reading kanji), your finger unwillingly reached underneath your glasses, to rub your eyes. Sleep was now somehow a rarer occurrence than usual… pity, you could use the rest.

With a wistful sigh, you placed the magazine back on the rack, and then bought a chocolate bar, so you wouldn't look rude for leaving the shop with nothing. However, when you stepped outside, you were met with the sight of a child, who looked on the verge of crying.

Now, normally, you hated kids, but you were a decent human being, believe it or not, so the least you could do was inquire what was wrong.

So, you stepped over to them cautiously, and asked, "Hey… are you lost or something?"

The kid looked you up and down, before mumbling, "Y-You're from Aoba Johsai, right?"

"... yes," you answered, after realising he'd recognized your uniform.

"Do you know Tooru?" the child demanded. When you stared at him blankly in confusion, he added, "Oikawa Tooru! He's my uncle!"

For a moment, you were stunned into silence, shocked at how often you were coincidentally getting involved with this young man. "Uh… vaguely. I don't know him personally, or have his number." You replied, scratching the back of your neck.

"He was supposed to pick me up from volleyball practice!" the boy declared, his tone rather humorously sounded insulted, but as he should've been. "I bet he's gone off with his stupid fans!"

"I-I'm… sorry to hear that," you stuttered, struggling to hold back laughter. "He should be very ashamed of himself."

"He should! Because I went off to find him, and now I don't know where I am!" he huffed. "Uncle Tooru is an idiot!"

You softened, when you noticed there were still tears in his eyes. "Tell you what," you spoke carefully, kneeling down to his level, taking out the chocolate bar you'd bought previously, and holding it out to him, "I'll stick with you until he shows up. Have some chocolate."

The boy sniffed, before taking the item from you begrudgingly. "Fine," he mumbled, fiddling with the wrapper. "My name's Takeru," the boy finally resolved to tell you after a bite out of his chocolate bar.

"Well, hi there, Takeru," you chuckled lightly, "I'm (L/n) (Y/n), you're free to call me what you like. Now, if you wouldn't mind informing me, where was your volleyball practice?"

"Lil Tykes Volleyball Classroom," Takeru spoke, muffled by his loud chewing.

"Lil Tykes Volleyball Classroom…" you repeated slowly, pulling out your phone and typing it into google maps, and then looking up the directions. Not surprisingly, Takeru had not wandered far from it, as it was about a five minute walk away.

"What are you doing?" the boy leaned over your shoulder, peering anxiously at your screen.

"Just seeing where you were before. It's not too far, so it's best if we get back so that Oikawa will see you when you get there." You mumbled, looking up. "Shall we go?"

"I want a piggyback," Takeru stated, causing you to choke on your own spit.

Yet, with a grumble, you shrugged off your bag, and Takeru climbed on; with a grunt, you stood up, and propped your phone up with one hand, before trekking in the direction of the volleyball class.

When you finally arrived, you let Takeru sit on the steps, and continue to eat the chocolate that you bought. Oikawa was yet to show face, so you decided to stick with the boy until he came. Though, you didn't really want to see him, you knew that just abandoning Takeru wouldn't be right.

"How do you know Uncle Tooru?" Takeru asked, as he kicked his legs.

"We met once at a party. We haven't talked since," you murmured, eyes focused on your phone (you were reading some headcanons for your favourite anime character).

"Do you not like Uncle Tooru?" Takeru questioned curiously. 

You pondered on the query, then answered with a quiet shrug. "I don't know him well enough to decide whether I think he's a good person," 

"That's smart!" Takeru commented, grinning widely.

A small smile flickered across your face. "It's a bit more reasonable than judging the book by it's cover, that's for sure."


	8. clearing up the mess

For about 10 minutes, you sat with Takeru, half sleeping in the summer sun, as the young boy fiddled with your phone (you'd given it to him so he could play a game on it). Time seemed to drag on for longer than expected, the vague background noise of other kids playing making it very easy to doze off.

However, you were awakened, when you heard a familiar voice cry out Takeru's name. The kid looked up, and scowled in annoyance, when he saw Oikawa, running up the steps. You also creased your eyebrows in concern, noticing how he was wearing his sports kit, with his jacket hanging off his right arm. Didn't the volleyball team have Mondays off? That was what Rin had told you.

"Takeru! I'm so sorry! I thought I could squeeze in some extra practice, and then lost track of the time!" Oikawa screeched; you couldn't help but snort at how he was flailing around.

He looked very different from the suave, cool, collected Oikawa that had a lot of people kissing his toes. You wondered how his admirers would react if they saw him like this.

"You're stupid, Uncle Tooru!" Takeru yelled in reply, waving your phone at him angrily. "You're lucky that I didn't get kidnapped!"

Through laughter, you couldn't help but add on mockingly, "Yeah, Uncle Tooru. He could've died."

At that comment, Oikawa finally noticed you, and his eyes widened in surprise, before he ducked his head with a small chuckle. "We keep running into each other, don't we?" he sighed, reaching where you and Takeru were sitting.

"It seems so," you muttered, your momentary confidence evaporating, as you instantly avoided his gaze.

"Look! (Y/n) gave me chocolate!" Takeru held up the wrapper as evidence, "You could've brought me something you know!"

From the smirk that crept across Oikawa's face, you knew you'd be in for it, when he turned to you, with a sly look. "(Y/n), huh?" he murmured softly, "So that's your first name?"

"... yes," you admitted, picking at your fingers out of anxiety.

"It suits you," Oikawa remarked, eyes still locked on you, knowing how flustered he was making you.

"T-Thank you," you muttered, before standing up quickly. "Uh, well, since you're here, I'd better go. See you, Takeru," you began walking away hastily, legs shaking with every step.

"What's the rush?" Oikawa exclaimed, and you stiffened then froze, as the sound of his footsteps came from behind you, catching up leisurely. "I have to repay you somehow. Since you gave Takeru your chocolate, how about I buy you some in return?"

You took in a shaky breath, not really sure what to do, but then an audible rumble came from your stomach, which made you cringe and shrink in on yourself.

Seems like your gut was telling you to just go with it.

Takeru burst into laughter at the sound, and you could hear the smile in Oikawa's voice as he spoke next; "Well, I suppose it's settled then."

-

Somehow, you were now seated on a park bench, next to Oikawa, as Takeru was playing around on the swings, after denying his uncle's offer to push him. A bar of chocolate was in your hands, and you were eating it slowly, gaze locked onto a slight bit of grass peeking up through the concrete.

"You don't think it's fate that we keep meeting like this?" Oikawa spoke, whilst in the middle of taking a photo of Takeru playing.

"I don't believe in fate," you replied dryly, tearing away a bit of the wrapper, "this is just a string of coincidences. W-Well, in my opinion at least."

"How unpoetic," a pout crossed Oikawa's face. "And here I was thinking you were a hopeless romantic."

"I… I wouldn't say that I'm not," you decided on saying, picking your words carefully. "I just prefer to keep fiction and reality separate."

"Right," Oikawa snorted lightly, leaning over, breaking off a piece of chocolate, and eating it before you could say anything. "You know, I thought about taking you out on a date as an apology--"

"No!" you interrupted abruptly, thoughts of Rin filling your mind. "No thank you," you uttered, and then started to speak fast. "But you see, my friend on the other hand--"

"Hey," Oikawa cut in, unusually serious. "I said that I thought about taking you out on a date. But I decided not to."

You laughed shakily, before continuing, "Uh, well that's good, because my friend is much more your type. She's, uh, very cutesy and… how do I say this? Lively? Yes, that's it, lively! I think you'd really like her!" your voice was strained, as you struggled to make your words persuasive, but in the moment, they sounded pathetically desperate.

Oikawa was silent, and out of nerves, you quietly glanced over to him, to find him with a pained smile on his face. "I don't think I want to take anyone out on a date for a while," he laughed, though it sounded pained and hollow. "You see, my girlfriend ended things with me a week ago."

Your heart nearly stopped.

Oh god. You'd just tried to set him up with someone without realizing he'd been going through a breakup.

How fucking ignorant. 

To say you were mortified was an understatement. All you could do there was sit there, mouth half open, staring at the chocolate bar clenched in your fist, looking like an absolute fool (which you were).

"She said I was too obsessed with volleyball," Oikawa drawled, pocketing his phone. "I went to that party the night we broke up, thinking I could hook up with someone, but I really wasn't in the mood. So I hid in the bathroom. And then you came along," he chuckled, "and to be honest you were quite a charming presence. That's why I tried to get with you. Of course, you weren't having it, though. But maybe it was for the best."

"Fuck," you whispered to yourself, then stood up, and bowed to him in remorse. "I'm extremely sorry, Oikawa-san. Please don't take what I said seriously. I'm very sorry I pushed that agenda upon you."

"That's fine," Oikawa murmured, looking at you from beneath his eyelashes, as you straightened up. "So, can we call ourselves friends?" he questioned, his smile reappearing.

"I wouldn't be opposed to it," you answered stiffly, swallowing what was left of your pride, and handing him a piece of chocolate. 

"I look forward to spending time with you, (Y/n)-chan," Oikawa sighed, now more relaxed than he was previously.

"Yeah, whatever floats your boat," you chuckled, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.


	9. doormat

Rin was way too happy after you told her you'd finally made friends with Oikawa; ecstatic would be an accurate word to describe her. She was making a scene at the school gates, squealing and giggling like an over excited kpop stan at a concert. "That's so great!" she shrieked, doing a little twirl.

"I would like to know if you tried some kind of drug this morning," you commented dryly, rubbing your forehead, yet a smile was visible on your face.

In response, Rin just wriggled her shoulders, trying to seem somewhat sexy, but honestly her selling point was more of being a cute girl. Not that you were in any way supporting capitalism… fuck the patriarchy and eat the rich, you know?

Yet, a question stuck to your mind, and without the consent of your brain, your mouth opened, and words spilled out; "Rin, Oikawa broke up with his girlfriend a week ago. You started talking about getting with him when he was still in a relationship. Did you know he had a partner?" 

At your query, Rin stopped, and then shrank away like a dog in the corner, looking for forgiveness, except all you saw was a predator caught in the act, attempting to play the part of the prey. "I… I really like him," was all she could whisper.

As if that was an excuse.

She could've told you, instead of you embarrassing yourself the other day by forcing a possible date candidate on him, when he was clearly still hurt from what had happened previously. 

She could've at least waited for them to split, been respectful, before getting you to do the dirty work. The dirty fucking work, which was so utterly humiliating and disgusting now you knew more about the situation.

There was so much on your mind, so much you wanted to say to her face, your messy feelings over your friendship crawling to the surface, your breath becoming stilted and harsh.

God, you were pissed. It was like a hissing, feral, street cat that had finally had enough of all the bullshit life had thrown at them, wanting to be unleashed in all its righteous fury.

But in the moment, all you could do was paint a sickened smile on your lips, and allow yourself to scoff. "That's low, Rin." You stated dully.

She physically flinched at your words, and recoiled like she'd been burned. For one minuscule second, you felt powerful, as if you were finally in control of what was going on. Yet then the inevitable guilt slipped in, and you quickly left without another word, not wanting to let yourself apologise for something that wasn't your fault.

-

Something you hadn't considered was that Oikawa was one of those supposed friends who liked to greet his comrades. Which is why you got the shit scared out of you when Oikawa walked through the door of your home room, dumped his stuff, and immediately waved at you. "Yahoo, (Y/n)-chan! Lovely morning, isn't it?" he called out. 

Funny how a singular moment could make you so embarrassed you didn't want to exist anymore.

You released a shuddered breath, offering him a strained smile, before clicking your tongue, and turning your attention to the interesting wall next to you. Now everyone in the class had their attention on you, something which you, without a shadow of a doubt, absolutely detested.

Luckily, the teacher came in at that moment, and spared you the questions that you could see swarming in everybody's heads. The painstaking wait till lunch, when you had to confront Rin (if she showed up), made you sick to your stomach, and the fact that you knew you'd be a topic of gossip didn't help your current state.

When class ended, Oikawa quickly rushed over to you, clapping his hands together in front of his face, and bowing a little. "Ack! I'm sorry, (Y/n)-chan! I should've known that you wouldn't like any attention!" he exclaimed guiltily.

"Not this early in the morning anyway," you grumbled, poking at your onigiri in your bento box. 

"It's 12 in the afternoon," Oikawa mumbled, looking very confused.

Clown shit, (Y/n). 

"W-Well, time is relative!" you spluttered defensively, biting into your food aggressively. 

"What did that have to do with anything?" he was still puzzled by whatever nonsense you were spitting out.

In response, you laughed in defeat, "I don't know what I'm saying either."

At your confession, Oikawa giggled as well, straightening up and rubbing the back of his neck. "You say some weird stuff sometimes, (Y/n)-chan!"

"Suck my balls you milk bread fanatic," you murmured, half hoping he wouldn't hear you.

(Spoiler: he heard you.)

"I'm hurt!" Oikawa cried out, "And since when did you know I like milk bread?" he wiggled his eyebrows, sitting at the empty desk in front of you.

(Yeah, the desk that was inhabited by awful people.)

"Well, umm, I-I have my sources," you tried to be nonchalant, but failed miserably.

"Oh wow!~ Are you a spy by any chance, (Y/n)-chan?" Oikawa asked, looking like a child who was meeting their idol, chin rested on top of his folded arms.

"Yes," you sighed, "I like to spy on rich people so I can find out their credit pins, and then spend their money on communist propaganda."

There was a pause, before Oikawa started snorting again, hiding his face, as he struggled to conceal his laughter. You sat there, with a half dead smile on your face, trying to figure out if you were doing this "socializing" thing right or not.

Out of the corner of your eye, you suddenly spotted Rin, smiling through the glass of the window, as she watched you two interact; for a moment you thought she was angry, yet her facial expression was calm. Then, her lips parted, and she mouthed three words to you.

"I forgive you."

She'd mistaken you getting to know Oikawa as some sign of an apology from you from this morning. 

No! What the fuck?!

A fire burned in your gut, as you realised just how subservient you'd become to Rin. In that moment, all you could do was look away, with a frown, and attempt to focus your attention on Oikawa. He noticed your change in behaviour, and glanced over to where you'd been eyeing previously, but Rin had already disappeared. "What's wrong?" he questioned.

You let out a dismal sigh, shaking your head. "Nothing. I think I've got an inferiority complex growing on me."

"Oh believe me," you were surprised at Oikawa's change of tone, as his gaze darkened ever so slightly, "I know how that feels."

You gulped, and then changed the subject half heartedly, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "So… do you believe in aliens?"

From the look of joy on his face you couldn't decide whether bringing up the topic of extra terrestrials was a mistake or not.


	10. philosophical morals

If there was one thing that you found utterly mortifying about yourself, it was that, contrary to popular belief, you were a hopeless romantic. You read vintage books by Jane Austen to cure your everlasting status of being single, you listened to Shostakovich and Tchaikovsky to hide the growing hole in your soul, you watched awful, cliche rom coms, and you wrote pages upon pages of disgustingly sappy stories about spiralling lovers.

Yes, you were a true romantic; but that didn't mean you were well aware of what really happened in romances.

After observing Rin's relationships, you concluded several things about the subject of love: one, that true love took time and effort, two, there was no such thing as love at first sight, and three, things could either be very quick or painstakingly slow.

Not to say your final statements were true, that was just what you had watched take place, from the five partners Rin had gained over the years. Since you didn't have the experience yourself, of course it was difficult to say whether you were correct or not, but you could say with confidence that everyone's encounters with love were different.

No person on Earth was the same, after all, though you could have similar tastes.

Though, you certainly found that reading through Elizabeth and Mr Darcy's painful miscommunications were far less excruciating than seeing Rin and one of her boyfriends screaming at each other. Because of your limited perspective, you knew you'd never have the full picture, but that didn't stop you from thinking that relationships sounded much better in books.

So you set fiction and reality firmly apart, deciding that it would stop you from having silly delusions about love.

You found yourself dwelling on the subject matter, because you realized that you'd unwillingly told Oikawa your most humiliating secret, back at the park. Well, you hadn't said it outright; but you'd implied it, and Oikawa was intelligent enough to understand what you'd meant.

Which is why you were currently regretting stepping on the school grounds, because ever since lunch, after talking with Oikawa, everyone's eyes were on you. 

(In case it wasn't obvious, you didn't like it.)

When the last bell finally rang, you froze up at the sight of a group of popular people waltzing over to you. The air that surrounded them somehow stank of overpriced perfume and the faint smell of superiority. 

"You're (L/n), right?" the girl at the front demanded, hands on her hips.

All you could bring yourself to do was nod wordlessly in response.

"How do you know Oikawa-san?" a boy asked, folding his arms and eyeing you in a judging manner.

"We… met once, uh, at a party," you replied meekly. 

"Another hookup?" the previous girl scoffed.

You wanted to die.

Yet an angel came to your rescue, an angel by the name of Iwaizumi Hajime. He pushed his way in between you and the others, and gave them a piercing glare. "(L/n) just knows Oikawa as a friend," he barked angrily, "so shove off. What happens in Oikawa's personal life isn't any of your business. You're not even properly friends with him."

(Holy fuck, you could fall in love with this guy!)

The group shifted uncomfortably at being called out, and then moved away, leaving you both relieved and in awe of Iwaizumi. "Th-Thank you," you spluttered, fixing your glasses so they weren't lopsided.

"No problem," Iwaizumi turned to look at you, "if Trashykawa ever bothers you, just tell me. He can be a lot to handle."

"I-I appreciate your support, Iwaizumi-san," you mumbled, beginning to pack up. "And thank you again."

Iwaizumi observed you for a moment, before raising an eyebrow. "Huh. You might actually be good for him."

You dropped your pencil case on the floor out of shock.

"Iwa-chan, what are you doing?" Oikawa walked over, causing you to stiffen, "Ah, I see you've met (Y/n)-chan! One of my newest friends!"

"Kinda rare for you to get other friends for a shitty guy like you," Iwaizumi commented.

(Iwaizumi, your hand in marriage. Now.)

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa wailed dramatically. "Why are you so brutal? I'm not that bad! Everyone else loves me apart from you!"

"Don't lie, Hanamaki and Matsukawa would gladly beat your ass!" Iwaizumi snapped, and then pointed at the door, "Now come on, we'll be late to practice!"

"Aww, fine," Oikawa pouted like a child that had been refused a cupcake, before he turned to you with a playful smile. "I'll see you tomorrow then, (Y/n)-chan!"

"May Karl Marx haunt your dreams," you cursed dryly in return.

-

To your surprise, as you walked home, Karasuma joined you, and offered you his number. You certainly hadn't expected it, but you took it anyway, and gave him your own; then you made your way home, where your father was.

"Hello, my moody child," your dad called out, as you closed the front door to your small apartment behind you. "How was your education today?"

"Shit," you replied shortly, kicking off your shoes, and padding into the living room, where your dad was splayed out on the couch, watching a game of tennis.

"Well that's underwhelming," he sighed, patting the space next to him. "Come sit down, I'm watching the women's Australian open."

"Who's playing?" you questioned, discarding your bag, and slumping down next to him.

"Petra Kvitová, she's Czech, and Biance Andreescu, a Canadian. It's getting pretty heated."

"Damn, they're at three games each and in the second set too?" you murmured, glancing at the score in the corner of the television screen. 

"Down to the wire." Your dad stated, with a small smile on his face.

Watching tennis was the only enjoyable thing your dad seemed to like at the moment. Well, considering what had happened over the past few years, the poor guy definitely deserved at least a smidge of happiness in his life.

You scowled at the memories that were resurfacing, before reaching for a drink that was on the table, and clearing your mind to make conversation about your father's favourite sport. "Who do you think is gonna win?"

"Probably the Czech," your dad replied, "she's got a fantastic forehand. There's this certain way she's pulling her elbow back before she hits the ball, you should try it."

"My forehand is fine as it is!" you argued defensively. 

In response, your father only rolled his eyes, and scoffed lightly, "Oh please, all you've got is power. You never bother to put in the slightest bit of technique and it drags you down."

"At least I'm not old," you muttered darkly.

Your father took offense, and gave you a sharp elbow that caused you to choke on your drink. "I'm not old! I'm only 48!"

"Yes, soon you'll be close to retirement age, and your back will hurt way too much to play tennis," you spluttered through coughs, somehow still managing to retort.

"You are one ungrateful child," he grumbled, taking a sip of the beer in his left hand. "And to think I was on the verge of buying you a new racket."

"You don't have to get me one," you muttered, rubbing your forehead, "we're trying to save up, remember?"

"But it was such a good racket…" your dad huffed, eyes still glued to the television. 

"My old racket is fine," you shot back, and then watched with interest as the Czech did one hell of a forehand. "Damn, you're right, it is powerful."

"Yeah," your father replied, "there's also the fact that she has more natural abilities than the other. She's just naturally more built for tennis than another." Glancing over to your dad's face, you found his features to be creased in annoyance. "God, I hate gifted people."

You looked away, and back to the screen, a small sigh leaving you as you did. "I know, Dad. I know."


	11. viewpoint

Cancer was a running problem in your family. No, not the term used in any internet jokes, the real life, actual disease. Apparently it was genetic, so there wasn't much of a chance of you escaping it. For as long as you could remember, you had been told by mean cousins that you would most likely die from the illness.

And for quite some time, you thought they were lying. You genuinely dismissed their comments, thinking that they were being stupid, and just trying to scare you, as older relatives often did. 

That was until your mum got it.

Now, your mother had mostly been abroad, only coming over to where you lived for summer. She'd grown up in England, and then moved to Japan, where she met your father; but when she got a job offer in Scotland, for a company that paid much better than her current workplace, how could she resist?

Unfortunately, when you were 13, she was diagnosed with an aggressive colon cancer, and had to be put into chemotherapy almost straight away.

From that point on, you could only ever talk to your mother on the phone. Flights were too expensive, since your dad's salary wasn't even half of your mother's. 

Something about life became strangely bleak after that.

-

"You should come watch us practice, (Y/n)-chan," Oikawa commented, as you trailed behind him on your way out from school.

"What for?" you questioned dully, eyeing him with suspicion. 

"Just so you can see how fantastic I am," he replied, and an obnoxious smirk spread across his face when he heard you grumble in annoyance.

"I don't know," you muttered, averting your gaze to your shoes. "I might distract you guys from practice. I don't want to get in the way."

"Why would you think that? We're a very competent lot you know," Oikawa's footsteps halted, and you peered upwards to catch him offering you a tilt of his head accompanied with his signature grin.

"I'm shocked that your vocabulary has the word competent in it," you murmured, taking a sudden interest in the painted wall to your left.

"I think you'll find that I'm smarter than you think," Oikawa pouted, folding his arms.

"Brush your teeth after saying that shit," you replied, getting great satisfaction in how his jaw dropped in mock offense.

"You're quite rude for someone so quiet, (Y/n)-chan," he huffed.

In a moment of panic, you were convinced you had genuinely hurt his feelings, and backtracked nervously. "I-I--They just come out, sometimes. I feel like you would like the banter---but that's just me assuming things again, of course---so I thought I could try using sarcasm as a way to make myself seem less awkward," you spluttered, making hurried hand gestures to convey something you didn't even quite know.

Oikawa was silent, before he let out a slight chuckle. "You're an interesting character, aren't you? Don't worry, Iwa-chan has taught me how to handle tough love; but you don't need to sound so serious, I can tell you're putting in effort."

You jolted, and your lips formed a thin line, reaching up to tug at your collar, as you became hot with embarrassment. "Wikihow said sharp wit was admirable," you muttered, feeling betrayed by the website. 

(Wikihow was your last resort in your internet search on how to seem likeable.)

"Yes, yes," Oikawa snorted, his tone somewhat mocking, yet in a fun way, "just make sure you don't start T-posing in the bathrooms, alright?"

"I hope you choke on a stapler," you snapped, shaking with furious humiliation.

Oikawa only laughed harder at your comment, before wiggling his eyebrows. "Now, are you going to come to my practice?"

You glanced away, weighing the pros and cons, before shrugging moodily. "Fine, I guess."

It wouldn't be as great as watching tennis, but perhaps volleyball contained a few tricks that you could use in your own sport of expertise.

-

"Trashykawa!" Iwaizumi instantly threw a volleyball right at Oikawa as soon as he entered the gym, "Don't drag your friends to practice if they don't wanna be here!"

"But Iwa-chan! (Y/n)-chan agreed to come! Right?!" Oikawa looked at you for support, as he rubbed a now red mark on his pretty face.

Now under the scrutiny of all his teammates, who were looking at you with curiosity, you felt very pressured, and all you could bring yourself to do was stutter out, "I-It's fine, Iwaizumi-san! I wanted to, uh, see if I could, uhm… pick up anything from volleyball, to use for my own exercise!"

Iwaizumi searched your expression for any sign of insincerity, then reluctantly nodded with a grunt. "That's fine. You can sit at the bench over there," he pointed to the said item, "but watch out for any stray balls."

"Thank you," you whispered meekly, before scurrying over to the bench. On your way, you caught sight of several people, who had come to watch Oikawa, and immediately felt a rush of anxiety to your head. 

Would they kill you if they saw you getting special treatment? Fuck that, had they already noticed that you were talking with Oikawa? Shitting hell, they were a literal cult, they'd probably strap you to a pole and set you on fire while chanting Oikawa's favourite songs.

(Also, for some reason, you had the feeling Oikawa liked Ariana Grande and Britney Spears. You didn't know why. He just gave off that energy.)

You sat down heavily, and tried to focus on what was going on during the practice. Oikawa led the boys, seeing as he was the captain, and you found that even though they teased him mercilessly, he was probably the most capable person among them, who could tie them together, to create such an admirable team. Since tennis was a sport you generally did alone, unless you were playing doubles, it was fascinating to see such comadary between them.

It made you think; it made you think about how nice it must be to work with people who understood you.

You'd always been drawn to tennis because it relied on each player, so there was no one to blame for your mistakes but yourself, and you didn't let anyone down if you lost. But… watching these guys was giving you a whole new perspective. Their interactions were heartwarming, and it caused you to reevaluate some previous ideals you'd stuck with.

Maybe, if you had friends who knew everything about you, and accepted you, and loved you, working with others would be fun.

But you didn't have that.

Your eyes dropped to the floor, as you realized just how lonely you were. This type of thing was normal; you were just an outsider who'd never attempted to make a single friend out of fear. 

It was comparable to a sharp slap in the face: sudden, and with a sting that shocked your body.

Releasing a shuddered breath, you looked up again, and swallowed the lump in your throat. You weren't here to cry.


	12. similarities

"What the fuckity fuck?!" you stuttered, sitting up straight, as you watched Oikawa's serve fly across the court. You'd never seen such a harsh hit; all things considered, in terms of volleyball, it looked more like a spike. 

Oikawa saw your stare of disbelief, and a smirk instantly crossed his face. “If you keep making that face, (Y/n)-chan, something might come in,” he teased.

You heated up, bristling with embarrassment at his innuendo, and held up your middle finger, which caused his teammates to howl with laughter, as Oikawa huffed indignantly at your gesture. With a grumble, you then lowered your hand, and crossed your legs, glancing over to the clock at the end of the hall; it was around 16:30, so you’d been here for two hours, somehow. You vaguely wondered if your dad was alright, although you’d texted with him about an hour ago. 

Then, you reverted your gaze back to the court, watching now with renewed interest, paying special attention to Oikawa’s godly serve. Were there any similarities between volleyball and tennis? Because if that was the case, you could ask him for some advice. 

As your father had said, you were incredibly strong, and your hits packed a lot of punch, however your technique was barely scraping the border of average. When you were small, you had been quite the stubborn bastard, refusing to take much advice. At that age, shockingly enough, you’d been amazingly headstrong and confident.

That personality dwindled away as you got older.

Time seemed to speed up a little bit, and all of a sudden the practice was over, and you were being approached by Oikawa, who had the most infuriating smug expression. “So then,” he spoke smoothly, “it seemed like you were quite impressed by my serves.”

“If you don’t mind... could I ask some questions about that? A-After you get changed of course,” you added hurriedly, not wanting to seem pushy or give off fan behaviour.

"Hmm… well, tell you what," he held up a finger, and gave your nose a small tap. "I'm going to stay behind for a bit and practice my serves, so why don't you stick around and I'll show you what I do?"

Your nose wrinkled, and your hands instinctively flew up to your glasses, to push them up. "I mean, I guess so," you muttered, trying not to let your thoughts run wild about how you'd be alone together.

“That’s what I thought!” Oikawa exclaimed cheerfully, “You might be a little bit awkward (Y/n)-chan, but I can certainly pull anyone into a friendship!”

You were silent, attempting to take in just how big this boy’s ego was. “Who told you that you were hot shit?” you spluttered.

“Many, many people,” Oikawa replied, smirking to himself as he said it; he seemed to have stated it more for his own self gratitude rather than telling you.

“I’m not one of them,” Iwaizumi called out, as he passed you two. “(L/n), if he annoys you, just tell me tomorrow, and I’ll beat him up.”

“How violent, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa screeched, bristling like a cat.

“Thank you, Iwaizumi-san,” you laughed slightly, although you tried to stop yourself from smiling too much.

"Right then," Oikawa spoke determinedly, as you both were now the only people left in the gym. "What do you want to know?"

"Umm… can I see it up close first?" you asked in a strained fashion, scratching the back of your head in embarrassment.

"If you wanted to get a good look at my physique you could've just asked," Oikawa replied, the corners of his mouth curling in amusement at your request.

"Listen, I'd bet good money that your body is comparable to a fucking lamppost. You're as tall as one, so it would make sense," you retorted, the light reflecting off your glasses as you fired the insult.

"You and your sarcasm," he huffed, folding his arms, before stomping over to the basket at the end of the nearest court.

And you laughed like a fucking hyena.

Oikawa turned around, caught off guard by you losing your shit. "What? Did you get possessed?" he asked nervously.

"Y-You were walking off like Debby Ryan!" you wheezed, clutching your stomach.

There was a pause, as Oikawa stiffened, and flushed in humiliation. "No I wasn't!" he defended.

"Yes you were! You could star in Radio Rebel, you know that?!" you spluttered, practically crying of joy at the thought.

"Well, disney likes good looking people, so I wouldn't be surprised if they've considered me for a role," Oikawa stated, though he was wearing a broad smile, unable not to find the joke funny.

"Ha! You certainly have an avid imagination," you snorted, before standing up, and placing your hands in your pockets. "Right, come on, show me your fantastic serve." You drawled, eyes half lidded with tired skepticism. 

Oikawa couldn't help but let his lips curl into a smirk at your words, and gestured for you to come closer. You complied, strolling over; then, you watched and listened carefully to his step by step explanation. 

It was a pretty hard serve, it must've taken hours for him to perfect. In comparison to tennis, volleyball seemed much harder, which made you a little pissed with yourself for thinking all sports were the same. Your face morphed into a concentrated scowl, as you stared hard at his arm movement.

(He had nice muscles. Not too big or small, somehow just right instead. You… sort of found them attractive.)

“Why do you want to know anyway?” Oikawa’s query caught you off guard, and a lump formed in your throat when you met his stare. He was gazing at you from beneath his strangely pretty eyelashes, the dim light from above illuminating his features, emphasising his sharp jawline and rather soft chocolate locks that seemed to sit perfectly on his head.

He looked… beautiful.

You felt compelled to perhaps draw him. 

But then your expression formed one of embarrassment, as you regretted your thoughts, and stepped back, your defense systems kicking in. “I-I just wanted to see if I could learn anything!” you spluttered, holding up your hands, as if trying to keep him away.

“For what?” Oikawa asked, straightening up from his starting serve position, and facing you properly, one of his eyebrows curled upwards in curiosity.

“Uh, you see, I do tennis,” you explained hastily, unconsciously rubbing the back of your head, as your unoccupied hand made pathetic flapping gestures as if it would help your case. “My serves aren’t great, and I was wondering if I could pick anything up from you, since your serves are, well, fantastic really.”

Oikawa was silent for a moment, before his lips quirked upwards, and he stepped towards you. At his sudden movement, you stiffened, but you became puzzled once he placed the volleyball hand into one of your hands. He then slid behind you, and wrapped his fingers around your tense shoulders, his warm breath concerningly close to the side of your face; “Why don’t you try it?” he whispered.

Physical contact had never been your forte; never once had you and Rin hugged, not at least since middle school, and your father wasn’t around enough for you two to have regular cuddles. So Oikawa’s touchy nature was something utterly new to you, and you weren’t sure if you liked it. You found yourself sweating lightly, as you took note of his gentle grasp on you, and then swallowed a yelp of surprise when he began to angle you, making you stand sideways.

“There we go,” he murmured, taking one of your hands in his, and lifting it up, so it was horizontal to you. “Remember to keep it straight,” he instructed, as he held your other arm, and placed it behind your head, elbow bent. “Now, throw the ball up about half a metre… make sure to step forwards so the momentum can get the ball to the other side of the court.”

Oikawa finally stepped away, leaving you shaking, and in a stance you were not familiar with. What was with all of this fucking touching?! He was supposed to be perceptive, so couldn’t he tell you weren’t used to it?

Or maybe he was just a sadist. How charming.

You exhaled slowly, closing your eyes, attempting not to overthink the situation, before tossing the ball up tentatively, and smacking it forwards with the base of your palm, with your other hand. It didn’t go very far, dropping to the floor right before the net.

(Get an F in the chat for (Y/n).)

You slouched, disappointed with yourself. “Sorry,” you mumbled, lowering your head.

“Don’t apologise!” Oikawa chuckled, giving your back a small pat. “No one gets it right on the first try, besides, you aren’t used to volleyball. You are quite the perfectionist, aren’t you?”

“I could tell you the same,” you muttered, folding your arms, glaring at the ball from across the court.

“You aren’t wrong there,” Oikawa replied, nudging you playfully. “Come on, help me pack up,”

“Lazy ass,” you grumbled, but annoyedly began to pick up the balls on the other side of the gym.


	13. reality

The next few days were… weird. It felt strange to talk to someone other than Rin, and Oikawa was definitely more of a bearable presence, although he was annoying. Karasuma would also sit with you at lunch more, when Rin went off to her club, so your lonely existence was beginning to turn into something that vaguely resembled a social life. It wasn’t that you didn’t like it, it was more of the fact that you weren’t used to it.

Karasuma invited you out for a bite to each on the weekend; you went, and all you really did was bitch about anime. Oikawa dragged you along to a couple more of his practices; you learned a lot from his serve technique.

It was like a dream. A dream that you'd perhaps had as a child, about making more friends (and a potential love interest…). 

The illusion that things would carry on like this, and only improve as time went on was quickly shattered though. 

Because life had a funny way of giving you a good slap, and saying, "No, you can't have nice things."

"I want you to introduce me to Oikawa-kun," Rin demanded, as she met you outside of the school gates.

For an unnamed reason, you froze. "Really?" you questioned, your voice stiff.

"Yes… I think it's about time we met each other," she spoke determinedly. "But I'll take it slow, and become an acquaintance of his before confessing."

"Sure," you replied, although your fist was clenched at your side.

You felt… really strange. There was a bubbling feeling in your stomach, as your overly emotional thoughts spat out insults and angry defenses. 

_Why should she meet him? I’ve been doing everything up till now! She doesn’t deserve him. This is stupid. She can’t take him away from me. He’s my friend! ___

It was then that you realised that you were furiously jealous.

____

Rin cried out in shock when you delivered a harsh smack to your face. "(Y/n), why did you do that?!"

____

"Just waking myself up," you replied breezily, the grin on yourself so wide it was painful.

____

Yes, you were waking yourself up; waking yourself up to reality.

____

This story wasn't for you. You were the narrator. It was about time you accepted that.

____

-

____

"(Y/n)-chan!" Oikawa greeted you, as you walked through the door, but then became surprised. "Uh… who's this?" he questioned, referring to Rin, who was hiding behind you.

____

"Uh… this is my friend, Yukira Rin." You answered stiffly, glancing over your shoulder to check on her.

____

"N-Nice to meet you!" she squeaked, bowing quickly in his direction, her face so red you contemplate the idea of it exploding. 

____

"Nice to meet you too," Oikawa responded, although the smile drawn on his mouth was fake. 

____

Maybe he could already tell it was another one of his fans. You didn't know, and it wasn't your place to assume.

____

"I-I'd better go," Rin mumbled, deciding she was overwhelmed, "see you, (Y/n)!" she rushed off, leaving you confused and a little bit annoyed.

____

"She was cute," Oikawa commented absent mindedly. His stare held no substance however, and you could tell it was just a throwaway remark to fill up whatever he was supposed to think of her.

____

It was then that you grasped that he found her boring; perhaps generic even.

____

But when his gaze found yours, it lit up ever so slightly, signalling that he found you interesting. 

____

Shit. You had to fix this, and fast.

____

"She is," you agreed, laughing a little. "But she's more than just a pretty face. She, umm, has a talent for gardening you know. And she likes sci-fi things. Star Trek is her favourite movie series."

____

"Star Trek is pretty good," Oikawa murmured, raising his brow in thought, "but I prefer Star Wars."

____

To your surprise, your mouth opened, and you replied instantly, "Me too."

____

His honey coloured eyes met yours, and his lips curled in amusement. "I thought you'd agree with me."

____

"Why, because you think I like you?" you scoffed, folding your arms.

____

"No," he answered, "and I don't like you."

____

(He hadn't been lying. You could tell from the tone of his voice.)

____

"But we have similar tastes," Oikawa continued, "and I do believe that's why we get along so well."

____

"Maybe," you joked, wiggling your eyebrows playfully, causing him to giggle.

____

Class went on, as per usual, until it was time for your favourite lesson; English. You excelled in English, since it was your second language next to Japanese, and your teacher definitely saw potential in you, as they had seen your writing before. This lesson in particular, they asked you to stay behind, so you waited until everyone else had left, then you approached their desk.

____

"(L/n)," your teacher spoke, talking to you in English, "I have a proposal for you."

____

"What is it?" you asked nervously, in the same language. 

____

"I've been talking to your Japanese teacher about this. You are an incredibly gifted writer," your teacher stated, folding their arms atop their desk. "And I believe you have what it takes to create some wonderful stories. But, you're going to need to improve your Japanese writing, and you need to pass that before pursuing a university degree in English. 

____

"So, I want you to write a story, in Japanese, with just as much flair as your English ones. It can be about anything you'd like, but make sure it's a work of fiction. When you do, I'll show it to your Japanese teacher, Hinata-sensei, and that'll be your final piece for this year, that will grant you a pass on the subject."

____

You paused, pondering over the offer, before nodding slightly, standing back to bow. "Thank you for this opportunity, Kaori-sensei. I will make you proud."

____

"I have no doubt that you will," they replied, and then dismissed you.

____

Outside, you leaned against the wall, letting out a sigh as you closed your eyes; you knew you had to get a pass in Japanese, but had been dropping significantly in it recently. You came to the conclusion that it was unsalvageable, and had tried to look into other courses that involved writing. 

____

But now you had a chance, and you were most definitely going to take it. Problem was, you'd need someone to proofread it without getting embarrassed (that meant your dad was out of the question).

____

(Rin wasn't an option. The memory of her tearing up a page of writing you'd done as a joke when you were sixteen was still fresh in your head.)

____

(You could still hear her mocking you as you cried over the littered paper on the floor, telling you it hadn't been that good anyway.)

____

"What's wrong?" Oikawa's voice caused you to open your eyes, and glance over to him. 

____

Your forehead creased in concentration. Apparently he was a shining student in all areas, meaning he could certainly proofread it for you. But would he laugh? Would he tear it up like Rin had done?

____

Yet something in his curious gaze told you he wouldn't do that. Oikawa was a person of much duality, but he wasn't that cruel. A sadist perhaps, however you knew absolutely in that moment that he had a heart of gold.

____

After suppressing another loud exhale, you turned to him, eyes firm. "I need you to do me a favour," you stated.

____

"How can I help?" he replied smoothly, scanning your features, his lips again curling into that oh-so familiar smile of his.

____

(That smile that you were beginning to love.)

____


	14. slow

During the course of the week, you and Oikawa agreed that he could come over to your house on the weekend, Saturday, at 2 in the afternoon. In that time, you wrote sixteen pages of writing, after deliberating on what your subject should be.

Your final idea was to write a tragic piece about two lovers who were torn apart by circumstance and argument. 

(Of course you had to write a romance story. It was the only thing you knew how to do properly.)

Having decided to make their genders and sexuality open to discussion, you chose two vague names, and used the pronouns they/them for both of the characters. After going through the strenuous process of picking out the line of events, you finally started to write.

Since you and Oikawa had exchanged phone numbers a few days ago, you sent him your location on google maps, so he could use that to get there. Your father was well aware of what was going to happen, and had been tidying up your messy house all day.

"Dad," you complained, as you ate some snacks whilst reading a Jane Austen book. "Leave off. He's not gonna be here for another hour anyway."

"Have you cleaned up your room?" your father completely ignored your remarks. "I know what you're like. You better not leave your underwear lying around like you usually do!"

"I don't leave my underpants out!" you snapped, heating up in embarrassment.

"What about all of your manga books? And those weird, slightly erotic novels you read?"

"Dad!"

A crack of thunder interrupted your conversation. Both of you peered out of the nearest window, to discover the sky overcast with ominous dark clouds; and then the familiar pitter patter of rain started to come from above. Your father grumbled something about having wanted to go out, but your thoughts were occupied by Oikawa. Hopefully he wouldn't get wet or hurt… and maybe he'd have enough common sense to wear a jacket. 

About an hour later, fifteen minutes after 2 pm, there was a knock at the door. Your father flipped out, attempting to make himself look normal, by sitting on the living room sofa and gluing his eyes to the screen of the television. 

You just stood up, now very anxious, and stumbled over to the door, straightening out your wrinkled shirt, before opening it cautiously. 

There stood Oikawa, a sheepish grin on his face, umbrella in one hand, dressed in a blue jacket, some rather nice brown trousers, a v-neck jumper and a white shirt.

… he was also wearing glasses. For some reason.

You squinted at him, adjusting your own specs that sat on the bridge of your nose. "Why are you wearing those?"

"Oh these?" Oikawa blinked, and tapped the item on his face, before giving you a closed eye smile. "I accidentally bought them once. I figured they made me look smarter, so I kept them."

(They didn't make him look smarter. They made him look even more attractive.)

"How do you accidentally buy something?..." you asked dumbly, then shook your head, and gestured for him to come inside. "Nevermind, just come in. And please wipe your feet."

"Whatever you say, (Y/n)-chan," Oikawa replied, stepping into your apartment. 

After he'd done what you'd asked, you tried to pull him towards your room, but his curiosity caused him to stroll into the living room, where he found your father. 

"Hello," Oikawa greeted, his voice light yet charming, "if I'm not mistaken, are you (Y/n)-chan's dad?"

"Ah yes, that's me!" your father quickly stood up from the couch, and shook Oikawa's hand, whilst trying to turn down the volume on the TV. "T-Thanks for coming over. This means a lot to (Y/n)."

"No one asked you Dad," you hissed, grabbing Oikawa's wrist, and dragging him away. 

"Be careful in there, there's a lot of books lying around in (Y/n)'s room," your father warned, which only pissed you off further.

You pulled Oikawa into your slightly messy lair, and shut the door firmly behind you, mumbling something about killing your dad later. "The story is on the desk over there," you pointed over to the table, which was scattered with half completed drawings and pages of words in English.

"Which one?..." Oikawa asked, scanning the millions of papers.

"Fuck," you cursed, walking over and rifling through your work, until you found the correct story, which you'd kept together with a paper clip. "Sorry if you can't read it," you apologised, a little embarrassed. "My Japanese isn't great."

"That's what I'm here to help with," Oikawa teased, before sitting down on your bed, his eyes half lidded as he silently began to read.

"It's only a first draft so it might not be my best piece of--" you began to stammer, rubbing the back of your head.

"Shh," he hushed you, reaching up and placing a finger on your lips. "Let me enjoy this."

All you could do was sharply inhale as soon as his touch left you. Oikawa definitely seemed to like shutting you up in various ways.

(Though you were beginning not to mind him leaving lingering brushes against your hand every now and then.)

So, you also seated yourself, on your desk chair, and pulled one of the books you were in the middle of reading off the floor. Though your eyes were on the English words splayed across the pages, you were staring so intensely that you could see where the ink had gone slightly haywire; leaving a tiny smudge where there wasn't supposed to be.

You were staring so intensely, to distract yourself from your heart, that seemed to be rattling around your chest like a caged bird, trying to say something you didn't want to acknowledge. 

At least, you didn't want to acknowledge it yet.

-

A tap on your shoulder pulled your attention away from Northanger Abbey (the book in your hands) and towards Oikawa, who was quickly seating himself next to you, on his knees, at your desk. Dazed, you checked the time; it had only been about half an hour, so why were you so exhausted? 

“You wrote a lot of kanji wrong,” Oikawa stated, his eyes flickering over the pages, taking a stray pen off your table, and circling a couple of letters. “But overall, it was readable. I just got confused at some points.” He laughed to himself absentmindedly.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, watching as he wrote down the correct versions of the signs. 

“Stop apologising,” he chuckled, placing the pages on your desk, before looking at you with a slight smirk. “So… now what should we do?”

“Umm…” you trailed off, racking your head for something to reply with, “you can leave if you like… I don’t mind.”

“Well!” Oikawa huffed, folding his arms and sitting back on the floor, so he was glaring up at you. “That’s rude! I came all the way here and now you’re telling me to go when it’s only been about 35 minutes!”

“Well alright,” you scowled, trying to fight a smile off his face at the fact that he was willing to stay. “What do you want to do?”

“Can I stay for some lunch?” he asked, suddenly becoming weirdly awkward and bashful, “I haven’t eaten since eleven…”

You choked on your own spit, and tugged him to his feet. “Are you dumb?!” you spluttered, pulling him out of your room, and into the living room, where your dad was trying to build a house of cards. “Dad! He needs to eat!”

Your father blinked, and quickly stood up, ignoring how his hard work collapsed onto the table he was at. “Uh, of course! W-What would you like?”

“If you have milk bread I’ll take it,” Oikawa replied, looping his arm through yours, which caused you to give him a suspicious look.

“Oikawa Tooru’s favourite food is milk bread,” you chuckled, recalling how he’d told you, “and his personal motto is, if you’re gonna hit it, hit it till it breaks.”

“That I did say,” Oikawa added smugly, nudging your hip with his. “I’m surprised you remember. Maybe you do pay attention to what I say.”

“Well,” you pushed, attempting to string together some words. “We are… friends, aren’t we? Why wouldn’t I?”

For a moment, his lips parted slightly in shock, never having heard you outwardly acknowledge your bond with him; but it was quickly replaced with a broad smile, and before you knew it, he’d pulled you into a hug. “Yeah,” he agreed softly, “we’re friends.”

Not having been hugged a lot in your life, you hesitantly lifted your hands, and awkwardly patted his back. Friends hugged, right? Yeah, this was normal. Completely normal. So normal that your heart felt like it was about to burst from how normal it was! Perfectly normal.

A sniffle broke you out of your thoughts, and you turned your attention to your dad, who was holding out Oikawa’s milk bread, whilst hiding his face with his free arm. “H-H-Here’s your food,” he sobbed.

“Dad!” you spluttered, “W-Why’re you crying?!”

“You have a friend!” your father wailed, still holding himself back from having a meltdown in front of Oikawa. “I-I don’t remember the last time you had a friend other than Rin! I’m so glad! I thought you’d be a lonely bastard for the rest of your life!”

“You are exaggerating the situation to an extent which I find rather uncomfortable,” you murmured, though you were quickly forced into Oikawa’s sweater.

“Come on, (Y/n)-chan~” he whined, “enjoy the moment, will you? I thought you were a romantic.”

A sigh escaped you, and you couldn’t stop a small smile from gracing your lips. “Yeah. I guess having fun for one second wouldn’t hurt too much.”


	15. before

**A/n: TRIGGER WARNING FOR PANIC ATTACKS!  
Also buckle up cuz this is a long one folks- tragic backstory here we come-**

The start of you and Rin’s supposed friendship had been very, very messy. At the time, your mother had been diagnosed with cancer, and you were already slipping into a state of immense paranoia and anxiety. Due to this, making friends was out of the question, as everyone could only see you as a mentally unstable student who would probably drop kick them if they came near. 

(That wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Drop kicking people became a pastime during that period of your life.) 

****

****

However, you met Rin when you were paired up for a school project; the teachers had placed her with you, in hopes you’d mellow out around her rather shy and passive personality. At first, it didn’t work. You refused to work with her, skipping out on all of your study sessions together, and doing your bit at home, in the comfort of your own room. 

“Why won’t you do this with me?!” she cried out, in the middle of class, tears brimming in her eyes. “I could help you, you know! Just stop avoiding me!” 

“I don’t need your help, Yukira!” you shouted back, fist clenched at your side, feeling your breath shortening. Everything seemed to be caving in, as suddenly you were the focus of all the other students’ attention. 

“What does that even mean?! I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but if there’s something I can do to help, please tell me!” Rin took a step towards you, hand outstretched. 

Panic overtook you, and you slapped her hand away harshly, eyes wild and feral; the gasps of your classmates echoed in your ears, and you stumbled out of the room, trying to find somewhere to hide. Your feet tripped over themselves, as you hyperventilated, before you slumped against the wall, closing your eyes, and allowed yourself to succumb to the anxiety attack. Why here? Why now? Why you? 

A hand grasped your shoulder gently, and rubbed it soothingly, causing you to shudder in shock. “Hey,” Rin’s soft voice rang out, barely audible above the sound of your laboured breathing. “Open your eyes for me.” 

Too frantic to disobey, you lifted your eyelids a crack, and squinted at Rin, who’s eyes were calm, yet sympathetic, as she comforted you; she slid her arms around you, and drew circles on your back. Ever so slowly, your heart returned to normal, and your body slackened, exhausted from what had just proceeded. 

“I’m here,” Rin whispered. “I’ll keep you safe.” 

In the moment, you believed her. 

-

After that, you begrudgingly let Rin know what was going on with you and your family, and finally indulged in some work with her. She was incredibly kind about it, even introducing herself to your father, and giving him a card that she’d made for your mother. Looking back on it, Rin had been an entirely different person back then; that made the change she’d gone through even more jarring. 

Now, here came a grimey section. Since you knew about your family’s financial problems, you’d engage in fights after school. The premise was simple: both of you would put an equal amount of money aside, and then beat each other up. Whoever was knocked out first would be the loser, and the other would take the entire sum of coins. 

Unethical? Yes, very. But it did give you cash, and as long as your father never found out, you were content with getting new bruises every couple of days. Besides, he would always smile at you gratefully whenever you gave him your pay from your ‘weekend job’. 

You just wanted to see him happy. 

When Rin found out, things became complicated, though. “(Y/n), you’re just hurting yourself!” she exclaimed, as she sat on your bed in your room. “And I’m sure if your dad knew, he’d be upset that you got hurt so much to earn him money!” 

“It helps us out,” you replied bluntly, staring hard at the maths question beneath your hand. “I’m not stopping, Yukira. Not even you can stop me from doing this.” 

“Didn’t I tell you to call me Rin?” she questioned softly; at the tone of her voice, you swivelled round in your chair, and froze as you looked at her. 

Rin was sitting cross legged, her long, black hair falling perfectly across her face, her dark eyes locked on the floor, the slight blush that was forever on her cheeks still wonderfully pink and prominent; her mouth was pursed a little, into a very small pout, her lips a light shade of red, courtesy of the lipstick she put on, having said she wanted to experiment with makeup. 

She looked beautiful. 

All at once, an unfamiliar sensation gripped your being, as you watched her, the hair on the back of your neck standing up, as you realised with great horror just how much you wanted to kiss her, smearing that colour across her face. 

You looked away, ashamed of yourself, and when she glanced at you quizzically, all you could do was offer a grunt in reply. 

\- 

The final straw was dramatic, akin to something you’d see in a movie. It was around 7 pm, and you were at your usual spot, except tonight your fists weren’t swinging right, and you couldn’t seem to get good footing. You ended up on the floor, in a ball, as a guy stood over you, ready to deliver the finishing blow. 

“Better luck next time, (L/n),” he spat sarcastically. 

“Fuck you,” you coughed in response; at that, his brow furrowed, and his foot went flying into your stomach. 

A gasp came from behind; and you were horrified when you recognised who it was. You were horrified when a familiar set of hands wrapped around you, and cradled you gently, something wet landing on your face. You were scared to open your eyes, too afraid of what you would see, but your body didn’t listen to you. 

You came face to face with Rin, who was silently crying, as she scanned your face, that was streaked with blood and scratches. “Why?” she mumbled, her fingers now crimson from touching your wounds. 

“Who the hell are you?” the boy you were fighting questioned, though his voice sounded distant. “Move out of the way, I need to knock the bitch out.” 

“If you touch (Y/n) again, I swear to god I’ll kill you!” Rin screamed in reply, clutching you tightly. 

You shifted, trying to sit up, as the boy walked towards you both. “Don’t make me hit you. Listen, you don’t get what’s going on here. We agreed to this, both of us, and we knew what we were getting into. (L/n) definitely knew.” 

“I don’t care!” Rin sobbed, standing up, and hauling you up as well, as you choked slightly from the sudden movement. “I’m not letting you hurt (Y/n) anymore! You can go fuck yourself!” 

The adrenaline kicked in, when the boy raised his fist, in preparation to strike Rin, and you swiftly jolted, and tackled him to the ground before he could. “This is between you and I!” you snapped, grabbing the side of his face, and slamming it into the concrete. 

“Damn,” the guy laughed, though it came out muffled, yet the mocking tone to his voice was painfully obvious. “I never thought you’d be weak for someone.” 

You gritted your teeth, standing up, and getting ready to give him a kick around the head; but a set of arms wrapped around your waist, and a face buried into the back of your dirty hoodie. “Please stop it,” Rin whimpered, her tears soaking through the back of your clothes. 

You were silent, before dropping your hands to your sides. You were tired; you were so tired of everything. You were tired of being angry, you were tired of being upset, you were tired of shoving people away just for the sake of not wanting anyone to find out. 

“Ok,” you finally replied. “Ok, Rin.” 

\- 

What a cliche story, huh? It was like a poorly written 1D fanfiction, where the good girl saves the bad boy from a life of misery, violence and suffering. Well, you wouldn’t exactly call yourself bad… more of simply… traumatised. You decided to stop the late night fights, and told your father that you’d been fired from your other job; he never found out what you really did to earn the money, and you didn’t plan on telling him. 

You wished that was where the story ended. 

But as time went on, the news about your sudden change in attitude crossed the year group, and Rin became the centre of attention, being approached by everyone. Perhaps that was what happened; at first, she just answered the questions, but then she began to capitalize off the story, and your friendship melted into an artificial plastic, that you were stuck in, drowning in. 

Your crush on her faded, as her pokes and teasing delved into something much more painful, as she made throwaway marks about your money problems, and how your mother probably wasn’t going to last for very long. 

(You threw away the card she’d made for your mum after that remark, out of spite.) 

Why were you still friends with her? Because you had no one else to go to. Although… now you supposed you did, having met Karasuma and Oikawa, but you also felt an unpayable debt to Rin. After all, you couldn’t imagine how your life would’ve progressed if she hadn’t convinced you to stop acting like a fucking delinquent. 

You turned from a short tempered, troubled, angry-at-the-world kid, who had no qualms in getting involved in gang wars, to a quiet, anxious, dry, sarcastic shit of a student, who wrote sappy romance stories and was cautious of everything and everyone. 

What an incredible transformation. 

Yes, life certainly did have a funny way of giving you a good slap, and saying, “No, you can’t have nice things." 

Rather merciless, don’t you think? 


End file.
